Pain au Chocolat
by maidenpride
Summary: Jean decides to do a little baking on a chilly evening, Lucien thinks he's helping. Just a little romance for our Jeanuary celebrations. Enjoy.


Jean flipped on the wireless and tuned it to a local jazz station that she and Lucien stumbled across a few weeks ago. It wasn't music she was all that familiar with, but she was quickly becoming a fan with the low bass and steady drumming. The house was empty, it seemed that both Matthew and Charlie were attempting to provide the newlyweds with a bit more privacy these days — Matthew especially after he'd walked in on them making out in the kitchen on more than occasion. She blushed at the thoughts, they certainly had no lack of chemistry when it came to that room of the house.

With Lucien off at the club Jean decided to a bit of baking, the house was growing chillier now that they entered August — winter was here in Ballarat. She pulled her sweater on over her dress and apron and moved into the kitchen. She stared into the fridge trying to decide what to make. Lucien used the last of the eggs for some experiment which ruled out more than half the recipes she had in mind. Pushing things around in the fridge she spotted a bit of chocolate leftover from the chocolate cream pie she made last week and suddenly an idea popped in her mind. Grabbing the milk and chocolate from the fridge she swiftly flitted about the kitchen snatching the handful of other ingredients she would need.

Jean poured a little milk into a pot on the stove to warm it slightly while she added flour and yeast into a bowl. Once the milk was warm, but not hot, she poured it over the dry mixture and gave it a stir before letting it sit — letting the yeast work its magic. She poured herself a glass of sherry and turned up the radio enjoying the sounds of Bossa Nova roll through the house. Satisfied that the yeast was sufficiently alive to make the dough she added in a bit of sugar and flour before kneading the dough. It's need at least two hours to rest she thought, which lead her back into the study sipping sherry and watching the fire roar. She slipped off her heels then unclipped her stockings from her garter belt before sliding them off and curling her bare legs beneath her on the sofa.

The room formerly known as the art studio had rapidly become her favorite room in the house. The morning light from the windows, the gold leafed ceiling, and fireplace made it one of the most beautiful rooms in the house. The ceilings were the highest in this room, meeting the roof line on the second story of the house — it made everything feel bigger, grander. Their new four post bed was so big she originally worried that she had Lucien would get lost from one another in it — two mornings of waking up to him curled up against her were enough for her to decide it wasn't anything to worry about. Jean sipped her second glass of sherry and thought back to their first night in their room together. She felt the room warm at the thoughts, her body feeling flushed at the memories of Lucien's hands caressing her body. Setting her glass down on the end table she peeled her blue sweater off and fanned herself briefly.

Jean checked her watch, surprised that some much time had passed as she got lost in her thoughts. Taking her glass with her into the kitchen Jean took the sticks of butter out of the fridge began slicing it into even squares as she laid the pieces down onto a sheet of parchment paper. She hummed as she got to work rolling out the butter into a flat sheet before taking the dough out and working it into the butter. Her hips swaying to the music as she cut the dough into skinny triangles.

Lucien walked into the house and heard the soft sounds of jazz music spilling from the living room and smiled, he was glad that he and Jean found another common interest, something they could enjoy together. He took of his coat and hat, hanging them as usual before moving down the hallway noting the dark empty room that used to be his. The sight that greeted him when he found himself in the kitchen gave him pause. There was Jean, his wife, happily working away with whatever she was prepping all the while dancing and humming along to the music. It reminded him of other times that he managed to spy on Jean as she did ordinary things all the while being extraordinary. He wasn't always sure why or how she came to love him, but was learning to not question it — just accept it. He quietly walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around you. He felt her tense for a split second before relaxing into his embrace.

Jean immediately knew who it was, that smell, and the tickle of his beard were all too familiar comforts to her now. Her body was pressed up against the counter with Lucien at her back, so she couldn't spin around to greet him properly. She smiled wickedly to herself and continued to sway her hips, more pronounced and dramatic, "I'm really glad you turned me onto this music Lucien."

He groaned as he felt her round backside move against him, clearly on purpose. He managed to eek out, "I'm glad darling," before backing up slightly to give them both a bit more space. Lucien tugged at his tie, pulling the knot loose around his neck, "What are you making?" He asked once a bit more blood returned to his brain.

"Croissants," she replied in her best attempt at a Parisian accent. She smiled and turned around to face him.

"With chocolate," he inquired picking up the bar he spotted on the counter next to her.

"Yes, I thought I'd give it a try," she replied grabbing the chocolate from him.

Jean attempted to resume her work of rolling and wrapping the croissants, but Lucien was doing his level best to distract her. Despite her best attempts to ignore the light kisses to her neck or the way his hands held onto her hips she felt herself melting into him. When he reached the spot behind her ear she couldn't take it any longer, turning around to face him she leaned in to kiss him, sucking on his lower lip before pulling back. Their eyes sparkled with desire for one another.

Lucien lifted Jean and twirled her around before placing her up onto the kitchen table, her dough covered hands reaching into his hair as he pulled her into a deep kiss. He used his legs to nudge her thighs apart as he stepped into the open space between them. His tongue dancing with hers. The room was getting hot despite the fact that Jean had not yet turned the oven on. Her hands came up to his neck pulling him closer to her as his hands worked around her back to divest her of that silly apron she was wearing.

"You are wearing entirely too many clothes Mrs. Blake," Lucien whispered the words individually in between kisses, his frustration clear as he tried to undo the buttons of her blouse.

Jean hummed against his lips as her fingers moved down his neck and over his vest, swiftly threading the buttons through the holes and pushing the vest off of him. "I don't think you're quite as focused darling," her eyes widening as he got her cheeky reply.

Lucien growled at her remark, slipping his hands in between two buttons of her blouse he gave a good tug in both directions scattering buttons across the floor.

"Lucien!" Jean gasped at his actions and the sudden cool air touching her skin.

"Focused enough for you ma jolie," he grinned mischievously as he dipped his head down into her now exposed neck and began nibbling on the delicate skin of her collarbone.

Jean's hands tugged at Lucien's shirt tails pulling them free from his trousers, "I hope you plan to pick up all those buttons, and sew them back on."

"Yes, well I'm not sure I _want_ to sew them back on. I rather like this blouse just the way it is," he replied as his hands drifted to the swells of her breasts causing her to gasp.

Over the past several weeks, Lucien reveled in learning all the delicate and soft corners of Jean's body. Memorizing every part of her and every moan associated with his touch. Each spot was a little different, if he rubbed her back she'd let out a relaxed groan, if his fingers grazed her lower abdomen she'd suck in a shuddering breath. He relished each one and enjoyed the pleasure he felt from bringing her such ecstasy.

Jean's fingers dipped into his trouser's, her hands snaking around his backside, pulling him even tighter against her body. Lucien's hands dropped to her thighs, his fingers pausing a moment as he realized she'd already removed her stockings. His hands rubbed against her naked flesh savoring every millimeter of her perfect, pale skin. When his fingers reached the edge of her panties he let them rub gently against her center, his eyes flitting up to her face watching how she threw her head back at his touch.

All thoughts of baking were gone from Jean's mind. The notion of moving this to the bedroom faded with each pass against her pulsating center.

"Lucien," Jean whispered the cry for pleasure, the cry for attention. She needed more, wanted more.

Her hands pushed his trousers and boxer shorts down. Jean noted that he was as excited as her panties felt — growing ever wetter as her hips thrust up against the pad of his palm.

Lucien gave a light tug at her hips, dragging the panties down. Jean braced herself on the table, lifting herself up for a moment allowing him to take them off and toss them over his shoulder. She felt him rub against her and she moaned, not in the mood for teasing she dug her fingernails into his shoulders encouraging him on. "Please," she shouted to Lucien's delight.

The next morning…

Charlie picked up a small white button from the floor as he stepped into the kitchen and handed it to Jean, "I think this might have come off one of your blouses."

Jean bit her tongue trying to keep her cheeks from turning devilishly pink "Thank you Charlie," she choked out.

Lucien was about to say something but Jean kicked him underneath the table and gave him a pointed look, a look that said we'll talk about this later. Clearly they had not done as well as they thought they had in cleaning up last night.

Thankfully Charlie didn't seem to notice the couple's odd exchange, or if he had decided not to say anything. "What are these?" Charlie asked picking one up from the dish.

"Pain au chocolat," Lucien replied in perfect French.

"What? All I got was chocolate," he said taking a big bite.

Jean shook her head at Lucien, "Chocolate Croissants, we enjoyed them while in France."

"Oh, these are delicious," he muttered with a full mouth, "Did you make them?"

"Mmm," Jean hummed before turning around towards the stove, "Last night."

"Well they earn my vote, feel free to make these any time you like Mrs. Bea— er—Blake," Charlie said stumbling over both his enjoyment for this new breakfast delicacy and what to call Jean.

"Yes dear, please feel free to _make_ these any time," Lucien replied cheekily before Jean could shoot him a look, taking a bite into the warm, buttery chocolate croissant and smiled.

XxX

AN: The idea partly came from that Meryl Streep movie where she and Steve Martin make the delicious pastries together - I just made mine a bit more physical than they did. Apparently making croissants is a complicated and time intensive process, so apologies to all the bakers out there for my fudging on things a bit.


End file.
